


show me how to be good again

by NSFWAdora



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora has a huge martyr complex but whats new, Catra has a serious praise kink, Cunnilingus, F/F, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, also she's traumatized obvi, im trying to get back into writing that after years of Not, needy bottom catra, this is all just smut, top adora
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:48:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24446101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NSFWAdora/pseuds/NSFWAdora
Summary: Hours after Adora's saved Catra from Horde Prime, she goes to visit her.Catra begs for the reassurance she needs.AKACatra has a huge praise kink and Adora would do anything for her.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 897





	show me how to be good again

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time writing catradora so hopefully it doesn’t suck too much! if you wanna chat hit me up on tumblr at www.adorasheart.tumblr.com or on twitter @danversjackson :)

It’s been four hours since Adora held Catra’s lifeless body in her hands. She can still feel the weight of her fragile corpse, broken from the combined electrocution and multi-story drop she suffered when rejecting Horde Prime. Ears ringing with the pained cry that spilled out of Catra’s mouth just as she fell, and Adora didn’t hesitate to jump after her.

Darla is purring like a well-oiled machine and Entrapta is fussing over something in the new user interface she designed. Wrong Hordak stands beside her, almost mute as he hands her different kinds of tools and listens to the Princess mumble about circuitry and wattage. Adora can hear them, but it’s like they’re underwater, far far away from her.

She’s glad Catra’s back. She promised her she’d bring her home, and that’s exactly what she’s doing. But it doesn’t ease the anxiety and pain she feels every time she loses focus from whatever she’s looking at in front of her. Every time Adora tries to think or focus on anything, all she can feel is the stinging new claw marks in her back that Horde Prime had forced Catra to cause her. All she can hear is the chilling, “Hello, Adora,” that was so distinctly Catra but still so robotic.

Every part of her heart is telling Adora to leave her captain’s chair and go visit the girl she loves. She just wants to hold her again, hear her heartbeat, listen to the way she purrs when she’s relaxed. For just a moment, she wishes they were back in The Fright Zone, back before Horde Prime, before the portal, before She Ra. She wants it to just be her and Catra against the world again.

Tears prick at pale blue eyes and the blonde digs her fingers into her thigh. Taking a shaky breath, she stands from her place in the throne-like chair and walks past the duo working on the ship. As she leaves the control room she can hear Entrapta explaining mini foods to Wrong Hordak, and she prays they’ll be fine and not blow something up.

With a grounding breath, Adora presses her hand to the palm reader connected to the room Catra’s recuperating in. The purple screen turns green and the doors slide open to the dimly lit room. The Prime clothes Catra had arrived in are tossed about the room and the symbol glaring at Adora from the back of the shirt sends a wave of anger through her.

Those glowing green eyes, the way Catra’s muscles and bones screamed when Prime overtook her as she fought. It sends a rush of hatred through her. Every part of her makes a silent promise to Catra that she’ll make Prime suffer before she destroys him. 

Catra’s prone figure lays on the mattress that rests on a metal observation table. Heterochromatic eyes are open, looking at the wall etched with First One’s writing. The former Horde operative looks so small, almost childlike as she keeps her knees tucked towards her chest. It reminds Adora of back when they were kids when Catra would sleep curled up in a ball facing her because they had stayed up half the night making silly jokes about Shadow Weaver.

For a moment, Adora allows herself to reminisce on every aspect of her and Catra’s past. Of course, the other girl has hated her for the past three years. She’s sought to destroy everything Adora swore she’d protect, she’d left visible scars all over the blonde’s body, and emotional ones on her heart as well. But before that, they were unstoppable together.

They would spend hours running drills, sparring, trying to beat their best times, and understand battle strategy. An elite duo that always left the other cadets in the dust. Then, at night, they’d sneak out to anywhere they could be alone and spend their private moments worshipping each other, pouring their affections into physical touches and heartfelt words.

Catra always argued, “It’s not because I like you,” and then with a lust filled grin she’d say, “I just want you.” And Adora would spend hours with her head between Catra’s thighs, worshipping her and making her fall apart. To which Catra would return the favor if she wasn’t too exhausted. Whenever they’d finish, both of them sweaty and tasting of the other’s arousal, they’d kiss softly and say, “I love you.”

Adora isn’t ashamed to admit she’d do anything to hear Catra say those words again. Hear her let out those needy mewls and whines as she digs her fingers into blonde hair or wraps her hand around her ponytail. She aches for those nights where Catra would beg Adora to thrust into her hard, fast, telling her she’s a good girl and that she deserves love. Other times, she’d be bratty, and force Adora to pin her down and degrade her while the blonde fucked her.

“I can feel you staring at me,” Catra’s scratchy voice fills the room. She doesn’t sound mad, just tired, exhausted.

A blush creeps up onto Adora’s cheeks and she walks over to the direction Catra is facing. When she’s in the girl’s line of sight, she drops to the floor, sitting cross-legged.

“Come to make sure my eyes haven’t gone all Prime again?” Catra bites out. Her eyes look away from the wall and land on her ex-best friend, ex-lover, ex- _ something _ . “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” Adora asks. She turns her head to look behind her but there’s nothing there besides the wall humming with technology.

The other girl scoffs. “Don’t play dumber than you already are. I’m talking about your cheek.”

On instinct, Adora raises her hand to touch the newly forming scars on her jaw. She’s lucky that She Ra is like a new body for her, one that doesn’t scar or bruise, unlike her human form, she’d be littered in thousands of other scars if that weren’t the case. But this injury Catra is talking about is fresh, it’s from her and Adora’s fight while she was under Prime’s control. From when she wasn’t She Ra.

It’s a habit to protect Catra. A habit that began years ago, when she and Catra promised to look out for one another. She’s spent her life protecting Catra from Shadow Weaver, from Hordak, from her own mistakes. So it’s a habit that the blonde simply responds with, “S’nothing.”

“I’m smarter than you, you idiot. Let me see.” Catra pushes herself up into a sitting position and reaches for Adora’s face. She turns the blonde’s jaw toward her and she winces when she realizes the pink, raised skin came from her claws.

Three angry, deep lines run from Adora’s jaw to just below her cheekbone. They’re tender, and Adora can’t help the hiss that slips out when the other girl’s finger touches them gently.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Adora argues, prying Catra’s hands off of her face. “Prime was controlling you.”

“I hurt you.”

Blue eyes roll and the Princess looks at Catra incredulously. “You’ve hurt me hundreds of times before, and I’ve done the same to you.”

The hybrid rolls her eyes, mimicking the blonde. “This is different.”

Adora doesn’t hesitate to hold the other girl’s hands in hers. She drops her head to kiss along Catra’s slender fingers. Her lips then ghost over sensitive and Catra lets out a small squeal. “All better, see?”

They sit there momentarily, just taking each other in. It’s the first time in years that neither of them is in mortal danger or attempting the maim the other. Adora is on her knees, holding Catra’s hands, looking so ready to do anything Catra needs.

It’s like they’re back in The Fright Zone, and Adora knows she can’t say no to her best friend. She’d do anything to see those small fangs peek out of Catra’s mouth and hear that raspy laugh that sometimes ends with a snort. To feel the soft, rumbling purr against her chest again.

Maybe Catra realizes. Maybe she knows that Adora came to see if there was  _ anything  _ she could do to make her feel better. To help her heal from what Prime has done to her.

The hero can see those mismatched eyes figuring out why she’s here. Can see the gears turning in her brain. Then, her pupils are dilating, and her claws are retracting from where they dig into the mattress. “You’re always trying to help others, aren’t you Adora?” Her voice is silky, seductive,  _ sexy. _

“There are specific ways in which I only help you,” the blonde argues, her voice low. She knows what Catra likes, what Catra needs. 

Back in The Fright Zone, on days where Shadow Weaver was particularly cruel, she’d need Adora to whisper gentle praises that made her chest constrict and eyes fill with tears. Other days, when she was tired of being in charge or expected to be the best, she liked being degraded, being tied up, and choked until her eyes fluttered shut and she came around Adora’s fingers. Some days, she just needed a release and her claws would mark up Adora’s beck as the blonde fucked her.

“What do you need?” Adora asks. Voice commanding,  _ demanding _ , just the way she knows Catra likes it.

Her lover’s ears lower in submission and she closes her eyes. Shakily, she breathes out. “Just help me forget. Remind me that I’m still good. That I’m still enough. That you didn’t almost die saving me for no reason.”

It takes a moment to absorb the words, but finally, Adora nods her head. She stands from her kneeling position and moves close to the other girl’s personal space.

She stands much taller than Catra because the ex Force Captain is sitting on the edge of her bed, her legs dangling over the side, feet just barely brushing the floor. A strong hand cups Catra’s face, and instantly her eyes flutter closed at the form of affection. Adora’s calloused thumb strokes her cheek, and a soft purr rumbles through the room.

Slowly, Adora moves her hand to the back of Catra’s neck. Her fingertips leave a trail of heat on the short fur they pass and when her hand reaches the back of Catra’s head, she weaves her fingers through the hair there. The feel is different. She’s used to the long mane of messy hair she loves to run her hands through.

Another wave of anger. Not only did Prime nearly kill Catra. He took away her past. He took her mask, took away her hair, took away her choice.

Adora’s grip tightens and she tugs the younger girl’s head back, causing bright eyes to shoot open and a gasp to slip out of her mouth.

Instantly, the Princess’s mouth is claiming Catra’s. The kiss is hot, rough, teeming with aggression, and Adora’s unspoken promise to do anything to please Catra. She can’t help but pour all of her unspoken words and promises into this kiss. Hopefully, it translates. Hopefully, Catra can feel her love in the kiss, feel her promise to never allow anyone to hurt the smaller girl again. She nips at the hybrid’s plush lips, and Catra lets out a needy whine but it’s quickly being swallowed by Adora’s mouth.

It’s frantic, and Catra’s legs wrap around the blonde’s waist as they kiss. “You’re so beautiful,” Adora pants out before kissing her again.

Their lips slant together like they’re made for one another, and a hot tongue traces Catra’s bottom lips, causing her to mewl pathetically. Adora takes the opportunity to slip her tongue inside and the kiss becomes even more desperate.

Claws dig into the collar of Adora’s red jacket, and she doesn’t hesitate to rip it and the white shirt she wears off and throw them to the other side of the toom. Catra’s hands then move to run up and down the hero’s muscled arms. Electricity crackles against Adora’s skin wherever the other girl touches her, and she lets out a low grunt.

Her free hand finds purchase on Catra’s shoulder, and she pushes her down onto the bed gently, not wanting to hurt her. When the smaller girl gives way, Adora moves onto the bed, caging Catra’s body with her legs and head with her arms.

Resting all her weight on one arm, Adora moves her other arm down Catra’s body. Her dull nails rake at sensitive skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps under the thin fur. It causes a whine to fill Adora’s ears and her head spins; she wants to make that sound happen again. It’s better than any song she’s ever heard, than any victory she’s ever won. She stops her movements, her fingers inching under the gray sports bra Catra’s wearing.

A hiss slips out of the blonde when she feels claws digging into her wrist. “Please,” Catra gasps out, her body shaking with a need to be touched. “Please, Adora.” Her voice is a whimper, something so different from how the rest of the world sees her.

“Tell me what you want,” Adora responds. She can see Catra shudder at the low timbre of her voice. “I need you to be a good girl and tell me what you want me to do.”

Another whine rips through Catra’s body and her back arches off of the bed. “Please, I promise I’ll be good,” she pants. Adora’s mesmerized, she’s hardly done anything to the girl and she’s already a puddle. “Please just take off my clothes.  _ Please. _ ”

It’s obvious, the words Catra wants to,  _ needs  _ to hear. So Adora dips her head down by her ear. It twitches as some of her hair that’s come loose brushes against it. “Good girl.”

The effect is immediate. Catra seems to melt into the bed and her eyes close once again like she’s reveling in Adora’s praise. It causes Adora’s heart to swell with warmth. She loves seeing this private side of her. The side that isn’t angry or teeming with a need for revenge. This side of her lover is something so personal and private, and while Adora knows Catra has probably been with other women, she can only hope they’ve never seen her like this.

Strong fingers hook into the fabric of the bra and with one swift motion, Adora’s pulling it off the smaller girl’s body. She does the same to Catra’s underwear and in the few moments of contact, she can already feel how damp they are. The blonde can’t help but mumble out a small, “fuck,” when she feels the evidence of Catra’s need.

They kiss again, almost as needy as before and Adora’s fingers trace around Catra’s breast, teasing her, circling the pebbled nipple that begs for attention. Again, Catra whimpers into Adora’s mouth, the sound causing a vibration in the hero’s chest.

“ _ Fuck _ , Adora,” Catra cries. Her head tips back to rest against the mattress and her eyes squeeze shut. “Please,” she whispers: begging, pleading, needing.

Ignoring her whines, Adora kisses across Catra’s sharp jaw. Her tongue licks along the sharp angles and soft skin until she meets the sensitive skin of the hybrid’s neck. The scraping of her teeth align the flesh causes a hand to weave into her hair. Somehow, Catra’s managed to pull her ponytail loose, and now dirty blonde locks shroud the pair of lovers.

Adora allows herself the pleasure of biting down on Catra’s neck. Part of her wants to leave a mark, to remind Catra that regardless of everything that’s happened, she will  _ always  _ be hers and vice versa. The other part of her knows that Catra finds pleasure in pain, much to how Adora does. The pain keeps them grounded in the moment, grounded in reality. It helps remind them that right now, it’s just them in these four walls, and nothing exists outside of that.

A cry tears through Catra’s chest and Adora can feel the vibrations against her skin. She begins sucking hard, making it her mission to leave Catra in marks of her love that even her fur can’t hide. She wants her to look in the mirror after this and know she’s still good, still loved.

“You’re being so good for me,” Adora whispers into her skin.

She can feel Catra’s reaction immediately. The smaller girl’s legs open wider and she cries again. Of course, Catra’s always been a loud lover, Adora thinks it’s the feline in her, but never like this. She’s so vocal, so unashamed of her need. Adora loves it.

“Please, baby,” the nickname causes Adora’s heart to skip a beat, but she stays focused on her mission. “I need you.”

Again, Adora hardens her voice. She stills her movements, wanting Catra to say what she needs. “Be good for me, what do you need? Tell me, baby.”

A frustrated grunt in response, but Adora doesn’t let up. “I just want to make you feel good like you deserve,” she kisses the mark she left on Catra’s neck. “Now tell me what you need.”

Catra’s chest rises and she arches herself into the Princess’s hand. “Suck on my tits,” she pants out, “ _ please. _ ”

Adora’s eyes darken, and she can feel her own underwear growing incredibly damp from how Catra sounds every time she begs for her. “Good girl,” she growls out, leaving one last bite along the hollow of Catra’s throat.

A loud cry rings out as Adora’s lips wrap around the hard nub. Catra’s breasts may be small, but they fit perfectly in Adora’s large hands and feel flawless against her lips. She can feel Carta’s claws just barely digging into her scalp as she holds her head in place.

Her tongue wets the girl’s nipple, and she flicks it teasingly. She knows Catra’s sensitive there, and she angles herself so that she can watch as her former enemy seems to lose herself in the pleasure. Her eyes are shut, head resting on the bed, and she’s biting her lip to keep from making too much noise.

Now, that won’t do.

“I want to hear you,” Adora tells her, panting and breathless. Her other hand finds Catra’s other breast and she pinches the nipple harshly.

“I,  _ fuck _ ,” a helpless mewl, “I don’t want everyone else hearing me.” Her voice is dripping with shame, embarrassment, and while Adora finds it incredibly sexy, she also doesn’t want Catra to feel this way.

Her thumbnail scrapes over Catra’s nipple and the hybrid cries out. “Don’t worry baby, the rooms are soundproof. I promise.” Her eyes never break from those mismatched orbs and she sticks her tongue out so that Catra can watch her tease the sensitive bud. “Now, be good, and let me hear you.”

The words seem to do the trick because instantly Catra’s cries are rising in pitch and volume as she allows herself to become lost in the pleasure. Her ears flatten against her head and her face scrunches up as she chases after each of Adora’s touches. She raises her chest off of the table, arching into Adora’s mouth. Her tongue and fingers tease her lover’s nipples. “God, I love your tits,” she mumbles, more to herself than to Catra, but the praise seems to do the trick and Catra releases another cry of pleasure.

Moving away from one of the sensitive buds, Adora uses her teeth to scrape at the skin of Catra’s chest. Her mind’s singular mission is to leave bruises and love bites all over the feline’s chest, to mark her with her adoration and love. “You’re so beautiful,” she pants, then bites down again.

It’s obvious that Catra is reveling in the praise. Her hands are gripping the edge of the bed, her claws digging into the mattress as she lets out lewd, desperate moans. Adora can feel her lower half raising in the air, attempting to find some kind of friction to guarantee relief. It’s sexy, how carefree and desperate Catra’s allowing herself to be, just for the moment.

Adora doesn’t ask for what Catra wants this time. Instead, she relinquishes her assault on Catra’s breasts (much to her own dismay) and lowers her fingers to the girl’s dripping center.

Both of them gasp at the contact. Catra’s claws dig even harder into the mattress and Adora releases a guttural groan at how  _ wet  _ she is. Her folds are drenched and when Adora runs a finger along the slit, Catra’s entire body shudders. “You’re so wet for me.”

Catra’s nods are frantic, desperate. “All for you, only for you.”

Another moan. For Adora, her favorite part of sex has always been the feeling of being wanted by Catra. She likes seeing the effect she has on her: the way her folds drip with need, how the skin of her neck and chest flushes red under her soft fur, how the muscles of her thighs twitch. “Please, Adora.” One of the brunette’s hands is at her wrist now, gripping tightly.

“Please what?”

This time, Catra growls. Her frustration evident and Adora knows what she wants, she just wants to hear it. “Please  _ fuck  _ me.”

Adora doesn’t hesitate to tease her entrance with a finger. “Good girl,” she murmurs, her finger slowly sliding in with absolutely no resistance. Catra whines and her hips buck to meet the blonde’s hand. “So wet, baby.”

She shifts her body so that her face is hovering over Catra’s as she fucks into her slowly. Catra’s eyes a fused shut as she chases after Adora’s finger every time she almost slides her finger out of her entrance. The lewd, wet sounds are doing nothing to calm the longing ache in the pit of Adora’s stomach. Honestly, she’s sure she could cum from this alone.

Another hard thrust and Adora curls her long finger inside of Catra. She can feel that familiar spongey patch and can’t help but smirk. 

“M- _ fuck _ , more.” Catra’s claws are digging into Adora’s shoulders and shockwaves of pain run through the blonde’s vein and to her center.

The girl whines disapprovingly when Adora takes her hand away momentarily. The cry morphs into a moan halfway as Adora slams two fingers inside of her. She establishes an easy rhythm, meeting the thrusts of Catra’s hips and she swallows her pitiful whines with hot, open-mouthed kisses.

Using her thumb, Adora finds the small bundle of nerves hidden between Catra’s folds. “You’re being so good for me, Catra,” Adora whispers against her lips. She’s not sure if the other girl can hear her over the needy moans she’s releasing. “My good girl.”

The combination of the words, the curl of her fingers against Catra’s walls, and her thumb on her clit seems to be driving Catra wild. Her head thrashes from side to side as she whimpers and Adora’s sure she’ll draw blood from how deep Catra’s claws are raking against her shoulders. “What do you need, baby? My tongue inside you?”

The words are the catalyst for another shudder wracking Catra’s body. “Yes, fuck baby, please!”

Adora gives her one last rough kiss on her lips before snaking down her body. She leaves open-mouthed kisses and nips along Catra’s torso before landing between her thighs. The heady smell hits her nostrils and she can’t help the moan that rumbles in her chest. “Fuck.” She loves how Catra smells. It reminds her of how they used to be, back when they had nothing to worry about besides becoming Force Captains.

Slowly, she pulls her fingers out of Catra, and she can hear her whining in protest. Her heterochromatic eyes shoot open and she raises her head to yell at Adora but her jaw drops when she meets those baby blue eyes.

Adora has her ring and middle finger in her mouth as she sucks all of Catra’s arousal off her fingers. She refuses to break eye contact with the other girl, and she moans in pleasure at the taste she’s missed so dearly. After she’s licked her fingers clean, she releases her fingers with a pop.

“You taste so good baby,” Adora says, her tone low and gravely. “I can’t wait to fuck you.”

Catra whimpers pathetically but doesn’t break eye contact with the Princess. Almost challengingly, Adora uses her large hands to force Catra’s legs apart even more. Her heels rest on the edges of the table Adora groans at the perfect view.

Downy curls are dripping with Catra’s need. Her entrance is clenching and unclenching, begging to be filled. The scent is intoxicating, and all Adora can think about is fucking her girl. “So fucking beautiful,” she breathes out.

With no further show, Adora dives in. Her nose brushes against Catra’s pubic bone as the soft, dark hair brushes her chin and all she can taste, see, smell, hear is Catra.

Her cries are a melody as Adora’s tongue runs up and down her entrance. Both of her hands weave into Adora’s hair and Adora moans in approval at the sharp tugs of appreciation, of desperation.

Catra tastes sweet and musky, exactly as Adora remembers. Her tongue flicks at the sensitive bundle of nerves and she can feel Catra’s thighs starting to quiver. The curses she’s releasing are nothing new, but they’re coated with lust and need.

It doesn’t take long. “I’m so close baby,” she tells Adora.

Just as it did before, the pet name causes Adora’s heart to swell. She becomes ten times more determined to make the girl cum and so with her lips wrapped around Catra’s clit, she uses her right hand to fuck into her again.

The intrusion causes Catra’s hips to rise up to meet her again, and Adora moans at her desperation. “You’re being so good for me, Catra,” Adora tells her as she catches her breath for just a moment. “Such a good girl.” The words cause a gush of wetness and Adora dives back in to taste her lover.

She times thrusts to match with her assault on Catra’s clit, and soon enough, she can tell Catra is close. The pressure on the back of her head is much stronger, forcing her in place as she pleasures the girl. Catra’s thighs are quivering with need, with a cry that needs to be released. “Fuck,” she cries out, “I’m so close, Adora.”

Regardless of the burn in her wrist, Adora’s thrusts go deeper, faster, harder, and her tongue abuses the small nub relentlessly. She wants Catra to fall apart under her, to finally feel good after years of suffering. She wants to be good for Catra, good for  _ something. _

“Come on,” she pants, watching Catra’s back arch and hips thrust to take Adora deeper. “Come for me. Be a good girl and come for me.”

The words seem to do the trick because it’s like every part of Catra is shattering and simultaneously being put back together. Her jagged edges are becoming rounded. Her cries are turning into desperate moans. The noises are so different from the old Catra but still so similar.

Her body is shaking, her body spasming around Adora’s strong fingers. Her claws are putting pressure against Adora’s skull but she doesn’t care. She just wants Catra to feel good.

Eventually, Catra’s shaking and sobs subside, and her body stills. She pants, most likely exhausted, and she can’t even lift her head for a few moments.

Adora leaves feather-light kisses along Catra’s thighs and rests her head against the other girl’s hip bone. She can feel Catra’s cunt pulsing from the aftershocks of her orgasm against her fingers and it makes her want to go another round, but she doesn’t think Catra can handle that.

A few more moments of silence. “I haven’t come like that in years,” Catra’s voice is hoarse from the screaming and even raspier than usual. It sends chills down Adora’s spine.

Her eyelids flutter shut when she feels Catra’s hand move to her hair again. She’s stroking the strands, like threaded gold. Her claws have retracted to be more like sharp nails, and she scratches the sensitive skin of Adora’s scalp soothingly.

Their eyes meet, and Adora hates that a blush creeps up on her cheeks, especially since they just had sex and she was fine. “Hey, Catra.”

“Hey, Adora,” the girl’s voice is soft, whispered. It’s similar to how she said the hero’s name after she saved her from prime. It’s a softness Adora can’t say she’s used to. Even in The Fright Zone, Catra was always abrasive and high energy. She was always looking to make Adora stumble or stutter. “Come up here.”

Adora shifts into her favorite position. It wasn’t often that they’d cuddle back when they were cadets. They were always afraid someone would tell Shadow Weaver which would lead to them being separated, or worse. So as a way to placate their need for proximity, Catra would sleep at the foot of Adora’s bed.

Now, Catra rests her head on the taller girl’s chest, and Adora’s sure she can hear her erratic heartbeat. “Thank you.”

The words seem foreign on Catra’s lips. She’s not used to a lot of things, and Adora knows it. Up until Glimmer’s rescue, Catra had never apologized to anyone, never thanked anyone, never shown vulnerability (except to Adora which became increasingly rare as they got older).

“You don’t need to thank me,” Adora whispers. Her lips press a kiss to the crown of Catra’s head, the short curls tickling her lips. “You also don’t need me to remind you that you’re worth something. You’re a good person.”

Catra doesn’t respond though. Adora knows already that this journey to recovery will be a long process, so she chooses to not pick a fight now. Not when she’s just gotten Catra back, not when they could possibly start to be okay.

“Can you stay?” Catra asks. “Just… just until I fall asleep again?” she seems to harden after a moment. “It’s not because I like you,” she defends, even though Adora hasn’t said anything. “You’re just… a really good cuddler.”

A chuckle from Adora causes both girls to vibrate. “Sure, Catra. Now go to sleep.”


End file.
